


i drew a line in the sand with these worthless hands

by petrichorputrescence



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Dirk Being A Good Dad, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Multi, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 18:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14431650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichorputrescence/pseuds/petrichorputrescence
Summary: “Rose.” Dirk’s tone was calm but strict. “Your mother had a bright future ahead of her. And I’m proud of her for, for managing to make such a life for herself after being a teen pregnancy. She’s not another statistic, she’s…”To anyone else, Rose might look annoyed, but Dirk could read the sadness reflecting off her eyes. The way she played with her hair, the way she pulled at a thread on her old pajamas.“She’s your mother, Rose.” Dirk sighed. “Just how I’m your father, no matter what you call me.”--Dirk Strider, father to twin children at 15 years old, has to deal with the return of their mother and her newfound family.





	i drew a line in the sand with these worthless hands

The apartment was humid and cold. One might even call it dank. Rain in Texas during the summer covered every surface of the small, cramped penthouse, including the bare torso of one Dirk Strider. He grabbed his own discarded shirt to wipe the humidity away from his chest. He used to be all abs and lankiness in his teen years, but now that he hit 30, the dad bod had starting coming in. He’d even started finding grey hairs in his beard, unshaven from too many shifts at the auto-shop and too many puppet porn videos to edit.

Yeah, Dirk Strider wasn’t a kid anymore. He hadn’t been a kid for a long while. He was a gruff Texan man, with a greying beard and jostled sideburns. He hid the not-even-visible bald patch that had started to form on the crown of his head with a trucker hat and a smirk. He didn’t own a single polo without oil stains on it, and he didn’t sleep more than 6 hours at night. He couldn’t. There was a physical lack of time to his life, every task running into the next one and into the next one and into the next one.

His head felt like he’d lived a lifetime in 15 years, but his heart told him everything was moving too fast. And now, Roxy- Now, now, thinking of the future made no sense when he had 30 minutes of puppet schlong to edit through in due time.

Gotta make rent, gotta buy food, and no one can live off a trade no more, he told himself. Gotta buy new laptops and phones and turntables and books. He blinked for what felt like the first time in years, eyes searing with pain. Maybe he blinked for too long, because when his eyes opened again, he had an unwanted guest.

“What are we watching?” Rose asked, leaning against the couch and propping her head up, inspecting his laptop with a smirk. Dirk hated that smirk, because that was the same damn smirk he did. He slammed his laptop shut, throwing her the best fatherly look of disappointment he could muster, which wasn’t much, really.

“It’s past your bedtime.”

“Can’t sleep. Thought I’d watch you work.”

Dirk rolled his tired eyes. The two of them matched in expression; dark circles under their eyes, frown lines and scattered freckles across their nose bridges. Rose got her mother’s eyes, but everything else was a carbon copy of Dirk. Except with a skirt on and an inability to grow a beard.

“Now, I say, I’ll allow a lotta things under m’roof,” he drawled, tongue too tired to transport each syllable into its right place. “You can watch porn. You can watch me work. But, fer fuck’s sake, you can’t watch me work on my porn, not least ‘till you’re 16.”

“I dare say.” Rose affected her best southern belle. Neither her nor her brother had much of a Texan drawl, but when it came out, it sure came out, and Rose did fancy a coming out. “Father, does my presence bother you?”

Dirk winced. Rose, in her faded, oversized Squiddle™ pajamas, relaxed against the couch, looking more like An Actual Teenage Girl than the fuckin’ haunt of the apartment, showing up when you blinked to chagrin you on whatever she felt like. Dave, now, Dave never took up much interest in Dirk’s exercise routines, but Rose could probably urban ninja from Houston to Austin. 

“Sorry,” she said, with a sincerity she rarely carried with her. “I didn’t mean to…” she trailed off. 

“S’fine, s’fine, I mean, I am your daddy.” Dirk sighed. “Just could never get used to the word, that’s all.”

They sat in a silence, not an uncomfortable silence but a silence nonetheless. Rose played with her hair absentmindedly. She had gotten a trim recently. Now, if only Dirk could get Dave into a hair salon. Boy didn’t even need glasses, his bangs were so long.

“Bro?” She asked, her tone not quite her own. “Why does our… Mother, want to see us now?”

Dirk paused. “I guess she figgered her life out and thought it was time to reconnect. Have a little family reunion.”

“They’re not my family.” Rose’s lips pursed, frown lines showing on her youthful face. “They’re her family, and we all know she has never been much family to either of us.”

Dirk rubbed his eyes, pinched his nose bridge, ran his fingers through his hair. His laptop sat on the verge of falling off his knees, already overheating and making him sweat clean through his jeans. At least he was sure he wouldn’t be having any more kids; this was probably sterilizing him.

“She’s still your mom, you know? And she’s still…” Dirk chest inflated before he crumpled in himself. “She’s still my best friend. No matter what happened between us.”

“She abandoned you.”

“Rose.” Dirk’s tone was calm but strict. “Your mother had a bright future ahead of her. And I’m proud of her for, for managing to make such a life for herself after being a teen pregnancy. She’s not another statistic, she’s…”

To anyone else, Rose might look annoyed, but Dirk could read the sadness reflecting off her eyes. The way she played with her hair, the way she pulled at a thread on her old pajamas. 

“She’s your mother, Rose.” Dirk sighed. “Just how I’m your father, no matter what you call me.”

They stayed quiet for a moment, listening to the rain outside, the laptop fan whirring desperately, and Dave’s soft snoring from the door that Rose had left open.

“Give it a try.” Dirk didn’t look her in the eyes. He couldn’t tell her about lawyer fees, about shared custody, about all the things that were more complicated that a 15-year old could ever ponder. Even if that’s what Dirk was doing at her age. “Meet your step-siblings. Maybe you’ll be friends.”

“You don’t want to fight her on this.” Rose’s posture changed, like a fighter in a match who knew they were losing but wanted to go for the uppercut anyway.

“I don’t. I sincerely don’t.” Dirk set his laptop on the coffee table and got up, reaching to grab her hand. “C’mon. Bedtime.”

Rose’s head twitched to the side. “As you say, father dearest.” Her words were dripping with venom but her hand was warm and soft in Dirk’s rough, calloused hand, and she didn’t let go, not until they reached the bedroom. Dirk paused for a moment, giving her a good look over. She was on the short side, but so was he. Dave had long since gotten a few inches on him. Rose had the air of someone who still wanted to fight, still wanted to pick herself off the mat and throw down. But she knew she already lost.

Dirk knew that feeling all too well.

He ruffled her hair.

“To bed with you, you scamp. You got school tomorrow, and if I get another note home sayin’ you fell asleep in class, I’ll start collecting them in a binder.”

“Yeah.” Rose was quiet. “Goodnight, bro.”

No venom, no punches, no thorns. Dirk’s shoulders slacked and he did something he rarely ever did; he hugged his daughter, resting his chin on her head. She tensed up immediately, before relaxing against his body.

“It’s gonna be alright, doll. S’all gonna be fine.”

They stood there for a good two or three seconds before Rose gingerly pulled away from him and walked inside, crawling into her own bed. Dave still snored like a cartful of boulders thrown into a waterfall. Rose waved at Dirk from her bed, already looking like she might pass out. In the soft ambient light of the Houston night time, she looked almost ethereal.

Like a ghost, or a vision, or something ephemeral, that you couldn’t quite ever hold on to. Dirk smiled as he closed the door to the kids room, but it faded away as he walked back to the couch, pulling it out to lay down and look at the living room ceiling, stained with moisture and yellowed with the smoke of past tenants. Like ghosts, Dirk thought, they’d left their mark on their house long after they left. 

He sat up and opened his laptop, a weary sigh leaving his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> [pyramids of salt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBkFXE-DvHY)


End file.
